


don't blame me

by noodlecatposts



Series: Love Made Me Crazy AU [3]
Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Drinking, Drunk Sex, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Hook-Up, NSFW, Prequel to Love Made Me Crazy, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23143147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noodlecatposts/pseuds/noodlecatposts
Summary: Prequel scene for Love Made Me Crazy.Rowan just wants to enjoy the evening. Too bad his boss has crashed his favorite bar.
Relationships: Aelin Ashryver Galathynius | Celaena Sardothien/Rowan Whitethorn
Series: Love Made Me Crazy AU [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620013
Comments: 3
Kudos: 91





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> note: this takes place before the main storyline of love made me crazy, and contains very little plot related to it. also, the end of this post contains mature/nsfw content…

Rowan notices her the second he walks into the bar.

Aelin is a hard woman not to notice. She’s tall, gorgeous—and loud as hell. Her laughter is the first thing to reach his senses, and the sound leads Rowan’s gaze directly to her, head thrown back and laughing with every fiber of her being. It surprises Rowan; he’s never seen Aelin _laugh_.

Well, he’s never seen Aelin laugh like that. Happy and carefree. Rowan’s used to the mocking, hateful laugh that comes from her when they fight, exchanging barbed words with one another.

They’ve been better about that lately—a lot better. Still, it’s weird. To see Aelin so _friendly._

-

“Funny running into you here,” Aelin tells him, voice void of any real humor. She flashes the bartender a smile that contradicts the tone she used with Rowan so strongly it nearly gives the man whiplash.

“Sorry to ruin your night, Your Highness,” Rowan says into his glass of whiskey. “But I’m not going anywhere, this is my bar—you’re trespassing.”

Aelin snorts, “Funny, didn’t see your name on it.”

“Here you go, ma’am. Rowan, you need a refill?” The bartender asks as he returns with Aelin’s drink. Rowan can resist the smug smile on his face; he couldn’t have backed his point better if he tried.

“Yes, please,” Rowan tells the man. “And keep ’em coming.”

-

Aelin returns to the bar a few more times throughout the evening. Each time, she reappears at Rowan’s side and ignores him completely. He has to admit he’s a little disappointed by the brush off. He’s had a pretty shit day, hence the drinking, and Rowan does enjoy a good argument with Aelin.

Besides, dressed in a tight black dress and a leather jacket, Aelin looks pretty good tonight. Like, really good. Rowan doesn’t think he’d mind the opportunity to check her out.

Aelin returns the last time to order a round of drinks for her table; they’re people Rowan’s never seen before in the time he’s worked for her. The way she ignores him gets under his skin, makes him crave that fiery gaze aimed in his direction. It bothers him.

As the evening continues, the crowd in the bar grows, and there Aelin is, pushing her way between Rowan and someone standing beside him. She turns her body sideways to fit in the tight space, and Rowan startles at the feeling of her curves pressed into his side.

She rests one elbow on the bar and the other on his shoulder, smiling down at him with knowing. Rowan scowls because it’s the only way he knows how to handle the situation.

Aelin smirks, leaning down to whisper something to him. Her lips brush the shell of his ear, and the feeling makes his hair stand on end. He has to grit his teeth to keep from looking at her.

“Doing alright there, buzzard?” Rowan can feel the smile on her lips. “You’re looking a little… tense.”

“If I didn’t know any better,” Rowan grunts, voice low. “I’d say you were trying to—seduce me or something.”

Smooth, Rowan thinks with self-hate. Aelin’s laugh is husky, her smile flirtatious, but it’s the way that she takes her drink in hand and winks at him that knocks the air from his lungs.

“Perhaps, I am,” she purrs, walking away without waiting for a response.

-

Aelin doesn’t come back over to the bar, but Rowan can feel her hungry eyes on his skin as he finishes his drink. Rowan needs to leave before he does something stupid, like sleep with his boss. He asks the bartender for his tab, and the other man flashes him a sly smile.

“The blonde that can’t keep her hands off you has already paid for it.”

As if to confirm, he nods towards where Aelin sits at her table. Rowan’s eyes follow the gesture, and sure enough, Aelin’s turquoise eyes meet his, twinkling as she holds up her drink in salute.

“Right, thanks,” Rowan sighs, fishing in his wallet for cash to tip him with. “Have a good one.”

-

Aelin is already standing by the time Rowan stands up. His skin is burning under her hot gaze, and he glances at her. Aelin nods once in the direction of the back of the bar. A question in her eyes.

There’s no doubt what the invitation is for, and Rowan recalls his earlier thoughts to leave the bar before Aelin’s efforts could come to fruition. Yet, as he watches her slink away towards the restrooms, Rowan doesn’t think he could walk away if he wanted to.

There’s not a soul in that bar that doesn’t know what Rowan is up to when he trails after the fiery woman. As soon as he crosses the threshold, entering the dimly lit area, Aelin’s hands are on his face and pulling him down for a messy, eager kiss.

Rowan isn’t surprised by Aelin’s ferocity, and he responds quickly, reaching out and wrapping her hair into his hands. He’s had just enough to drink this evening to be able to admit to himself that this isn’t the first time he’s thought about doing so, wondered what she might sound like when he pulled on it.

He does just that, an experiment that is rewarded with Aelin moaning, low and throatily. She swipes her tongue across his lips, impatient for more, and Rowan huffs a laugh, gives her what she’s wanting.

Aelin tugs on his lip with her teeth as she pulls away, grinning like a thief. “I wasn’t sure you were going to come join me.”

“Me either,” Rowan confesses, backing her body up and pinning Aelin against the wall with his hips. She whimpers at the feeling and digs her nails into the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

He knows his smile is smug, but Aelin’s is just as confident. She yanks him down by the chin and pulls him in for another desperate kiss. Their hands explore one another. Aelin takes him by the hips and pulls him ever closer, and Rowan brushes the underside of her breast with a thumb. They both moan hard enough to break the kiss.

Aelin’s laugh is breathy, husky. Rowan likes the sound of it, wants more.

Aelin drops her head back against the wall when Rowan drags his lips roughly down the side of her throat. One of his hands massages a breast through her tight, black dress, and the other presses against her throat lightly. She has to bite her lip to hide the moans, he’s coaxing out of her.

“Maybe we should take this somewhere else,” he tells her, voice hoarse with arousal and lips brushing against her skin. “Somewhere… more private.”

Aelin bites her lip and pushes him away gently. Without the feeling of her body pressed against his, Rowan’s flushed skin is cold.

The look in her eyes is nothing but trouble as she turns the doorknob to the bathroom and tugs him along by his belt. Rowan is helpless under her spell, follows her into the room, even though this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind.

In the bathroom, Rowan takes Aelin by the hips and lifts her onto the sink. She gasps but is quick to reach out and wrap her legs around him and pull him close. Their mouths meet again in a messy kiss, and Aelin’s hands drag down the front of his body to cup the bulge forming in his jeans. Rowan’s answering groan is desperate, and he feels her smirk into their kiss.

Reaching for the hem of her skirt, Rowan tugs the dress up. Aelin hums, lifting her hips to help. Quickly, he tugs her underwear to the side and slips a finger inside of her. He groans at the feeling of her around his fingers; he thinks he’d like to have her wrapped around his cock instead.

His mouth latches onto the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Aelin tosses her head back, enjoying the quick work of Rowan’s fingers.

Rowan would like very much to hike up this little dress of hers and take her here and now. Dirty bathroom be damned. And the way Aelin moans as she works him through his pants tells Rowan that she feels very similarly. But they’ve both had a lot to drink, and Rowan’s conscience gets the better of him. Besides, his boss could wake up in the morning and realize what a mistake she’s made.

She comes more quickly than he’d like, digging her nails into his shoulders, and moaning loudly. He craves the sound enough that he works one more out of her before they part.

One second, Rowan is working Aelin through her orgasm, and the next, he’s fixing his jeans, while Aelin fixes her hair in the mirror. It doesn’t surprise Rowan that this would be quick and dirty, imagines fucking her for real would be pretty similar.

“Are you sure you don’t want to fuck me for real?” Aelin says as she fixes her makeup, fluffing out her hair. Rowan huffs. Her voice is cocky, “You’re missing out. I’m a great fuck.”

This time Rowan’s smile is real. “Of that, I have no doubt.”

His words earn a grin.

“Very well then,” As Aelin passes by, she gives him a mischievous look. “You might want to fix your lipstick before you leave, or everyone will know what you’ve been up to, Mr. Whitethorn.”

“Pretty sure, everyone out there already knows,” he purrs, voice low, watching her from the mirror as her eyes darken with promise. “Ms. Galathynius.”

Aelin humor fades. “Let’s make sure no else does, got it?”

Rowan turns to face her, sees the expression on her face. If Aelin doesn’t want anyone else to find out about this, that’s fine with him.

“As you wish, Your Highness.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you guys are waiting for an update to LMMC. Here's another prequel piece in the meantime. Sorry!

**Don’t Blame Me contains no spoils for LMMC and vice a versa. Chapter contains mature/NSFW content. 💋**

*****

**The following Monday morning,** Rowan returns to work business as usual, as if nothing has changed. It’s the truth, after all. So, Rowan hooked up with his boss, the CEO of the company he works for—whatever. Plenty of people do way dumber shit all of the time.

“I have excellent news, boss,” Fenrys announces as Rowan passes his desk, without looking up from his computer. The silver-haired man raises an eyebrow as he goes, and the blonde shoots him a grin. No good news is about to come out of that man’s lips, Rowan thinks.

“The camera is out in elevator D.” Fenrys winks. Rowan sighs loudly, an open display of his displeasure. There’s always a fucking camera out in this building.

“But, fear not,” Fenrys continues before the rant can begin. “Connall lost the game of rock-paper-scissors. He’s been on hold for the past half hour already. A resolution today seems… unlikely.”

“Great,” Rowan groans. The blonde chuckles. “Keep me posted.”

With that, Rowan heads for his office. Being in charge isn’t actually as cool as everyone seems to think it is. It really just involves a lot of paperwork and phone calls. And emails. Rowan groans at the sight of the 82 emails waiting impatiently in his inbox, and then he gets to work.

The one and only Aelin Galathynius calls him up to her office later that day. Rowan schools his face into his carefully neutral mask before making the trek upstairs to see his weekend fling. He’s determined not to let what happened this weekend affect his job.

Fenrys sings the Funeral March as Rowan leaves the office, bursting into laughter when Rowan flips him off before he rounds the corner. It’s well known that Aelin and Rowan don’t get along very well. He wonders at what his coworkers would think if they knew about this weekend.

Yet, Aelin’s words echo in his mind, _Let’s make sure no one else does, got it?_

It’s those words alone that make him push the train of thought away. Rowan works for Aelin, and he’s not about to jeopardize his career because he got a little drunk and made out with his boss.

He thinks of the sounds he brought out of her in that bathroom. Okay, it was way more than just making out. And maybe Rowan would mind having another go at the woman, but it wasn’t worth his job to do so. Aelin made it very clear to him that it was a one-time thing.

*

Rowan trudges his way towards the elevator way later than usual. It’s been a hell of a day, just one thing after the next. Aelin wasn’t any help, either. She kept summoning him for one thing or another, minor things, things that Rowan didn’t have any part in taking care of.

It led to a huge fight. They were starting to be known for those.

Rowan taps his foot impatiently as he waits for the lift. He just wants to go home, have a beer, and sleep off the stress. Lor and the rest of the guys invited him out for drinks, but Rowan just wasn’t in the mood.

The last person that Rowan expects to see as the doors slide open is Aelin, but there she is standing in all her two-piece suited glory. The way those pants of hers fit her hips has to be a dress code violation.

He’s surprised to see her still at work. He’d expect her to be home by now; it’s late as hell. This is also one of the public elevators, no her private one, linking directly between her level in the building the private garage.

Aelin raises one immaculate brow. “You getting on? I’m not waiting.”

Her words snap Rowan into action. He clears his throat, stepping onto the elevator, while Aelin directs her attention to her phone. He can’t decide if this is her way of dismissing him or not. Rowan spent all day bending over backward to meet her expectations, and now she’s just ignoring him.

They ride in silence for a couple of floors, until Rowan can’t take it anymore, and then he asks, “Do you have a problem with me, specifically? Or do you just get off on pissing people off?”

Aelin peers up at him from her phone, sliding her eyes across his body as she does so. Rowan stands up straighter at the heat he finds in her eyes. Not just from anger.

“Actually,” she beings, pocketing her phone to give Rowan all of her attention. Those blue and gold eyes of hers are bright with challenge. Rowan’s pulse races, recalling the way those same eyes looked at her with his hands up her skirt.

“I do have a problem. A big fucking one,” she declares, and Rowan scoffs at the dramatics. This is so typical of her.

Aelin doesn’t back down, so Rowan doesn’t either. They stare at one another long and hard, and then she tells him, “I’ve been trying to get your godsdamned attention _all day_ , and either you’re just not interested, which is cool, whatever. Or, you’re just that fucking dumb.”

A beat.

They move at the same time. Aelin takes him by the ties and pulls his close, grinning that same smile of her from Saturday. Rowan eagerly closes the gap between them, one hand falling to her throat as he guides her back against the wall.

The sound that leaves her throat as he squeezes ever so lightly makes Rowan’s blood boil. Aelin’s eyes are heavy with want, and they meet for a searing kiss, Aelin’s hands searching for something to grab onto for support.

They don’t waste time playing shy. Rowan’s hands drag down her body, reaching for those sinful curves he’s been eyeing all day to pull her body flush against his own. Aelin moans into their kiss, surrendering the lead to Rowan, letting him do what he wants with her.

“C-camera,” Aelin gasps, as Rowan sinks his teeth into the skin of her neck. Another soft whimper.

“Doesn’t work,” he breathes, dragging his mouth back up the column of her throat.

Laughter bubbles up Aelin’s throat. Rowan suspects she’s about to say something smart, so he claims her mouth again, grabbing her hair and pulling it. Aelin chokes on the words, digging her nails into his back. He groans, capable of feeling the manicured nails through his jacket.

Rowan’s hand returns to her face, tilting her head to deepen the kiss at last. Aelin groans at the taste of him; Rowan can’t help the satisfied smirk that comes over his face at how easily she comes undone for him. He takes her by the waist, arching her back into him, grinding their hips together. Aelin swears in a gasp, reminding Rowan of all the sounds he wants to pull from her.

The elevator dings, announcing their arrival on the ground floor.

As quickly as they came together, they pull apart. Aelin’s face is flushed, lips swollen from kissing, but her eyes are bright and mischievous. She bites her lip, watching him fix his tie, and Rowan pretends not to see the heat shining in her eyes, knowing its mirrored in his own.

“Come back to my place,” she invites without embarrassment. It makes her even more attractive to Rowan, her ownership of what she wants, of not being afraid to get it.

He wants to say yes, but something makes Rowan decide to play hard to get. He flashes her a grin, following her off of the elevator. There’s no one here to notice the lipstick on his face or the bite marks on her neck, so Rowan leans in close enough for their noses to brush.

Aelin tilts her head back, preparing for the kiss that never comes. Rowan chuckles darkly as her eyes fall closed.

“Maybe next time,” he says, breath fanning her face.

Aelin’s eyes pop open in surprise, but when she recognizes the challenge in his expression, she grins, ready for a fight. Rowan holds her ground as Aelin speaks, lips brushing his ear. “Make sure to think of me tonight when you get yourself off.”

With that, the fiery blonde woman sweeps from the building, leaving a gaping Rowan behind her. Each time he thinks he’s got her figured out, that he’s a step ahead, Aelin knocks his legs out from underneath him. Every. Single. Time.

*


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *insert NSFW warning here*

Rowan isn’t surprised when he sees Aelin at his favorite bar again; in fact, he’s expecting it, waiting for it even. Yet, the thrill that runs through him at the sight of her strutting into that shitty bar in a black mini skirt and towering heels _is_ surprising. He doesn’t really like Aelin—right?

His skin prickles as she slides onto the stool beside him at the bar, every nerve in his body acutely aware of how close she is. Rowan tries to keep it cool and collected, but Aelin doesn’t bother playing coy with him—and she didn’t bring her court of followers to entertain, either. 

Aelin’s reason for coming here is apparent: she came to see Rowan.

Her eyes promise trouble as she looks him over, appreciating his casual shirt and jeans. It’s a Saturday night, and everyone else was busy. What else was Rowan supposed to do with his time? Sit around at home?

“I was hoping I’d find you here,” she tells him boldly. After giving the bartender her drink, Aelin adds, “You look good tonight.”

“Thanks,” he says gruffly, uncomfortable with the pleasing feeling that comes over him. Rowan works hard not to preen at the praise. He’s not some silly teenage boy, but he’s still a grown man. It’s nice to have an attractive woman like Aelin pay him attention.

Her laugh is soft, nothing more than an exhale, but her eyes are filled with promise. Her beer arrives then, and Aelin smiles against the rim of the bottle as she tells him, “You’re very welcome.”

It’s funny that it should be so awkward between them. Rowan had his fingers inside her a matter of a week ago, and then there was the moment in the elevator last week. He and Aelin are way passed the stilted conversation phase of whatever this is developing between them.

He already knows what she sounds like when she comes. Why is he worried about what Aelin thinks of his appearance?

“So, how was your week?” Aelin asks casually, leaning one arm against the bar and giving Rowan a full view of her cleavage. His eyes drop to her breasts immediately, and Aelin smiles knowingly. Her posture is purposeful, of course, as was her choice to wear a shirt with a plunging neckline. She’s nothing more than a cat playing with a mouse.

Rowan clears his throat and takes a sip of his whiskey. “Fine, as usual. My boss didn’t even give me any shit this week.”

Aelin’s smile only grows. “How nice of her. She must like you.”

They talk and drink. Rowan knows from their months fighting each other that Aelin is clever as hell—funny, too. He’s found himself on more than one occasion, grinning at the shit she says, even if it’s directed at him to piss Rowan off.

This evening isn’t any different. Aelin manages to land a few remarks here and there that make him duck his head in both amusement and even a little shyness. People can’t usually make Rowan laugh like Aelin does; it’s strange.

As they talk, Aelin gets closer to him, sitting so their legs press together; they’re close enough that when Rowan reaches for his refill, he bumps elbows with her. The age-old struggle of a leftie.

Aelin seems surprised when she notices at first. Then her eyes crinkle with a kind of softness that makes Rowan flush with warmth.

“My dad is a leftie, too,” Aelin tells him. “He has his own spot reserved at the table for dinner. It doesn’t matter if we’re eating out or not. Rhoe Galathynius gets the special left end seat.”

It seems odd to share such a personal detail, while Aelin is obviously trying to pick him up. She continues, oblivious to the intimate turn of things. “When I moved into his office, it took me months to get things rearranged in a way that made sense. Everything was always in the wrong spot.”

“Hey, we are vastly outnumbered in any situation,” Rowan tells her. “So, I’ve got to stick with your dad on this one. You right-handed people make everything so hard for us.”

Aelin breaks into a giggle. It’s light and happy, probably a direct cause of the third beer in her hands, but Rowan likes it. He feels proud to make her laugh like that, loving how she throws her head back with it. Carefree. Beautiful.

Rowan rests his hand on her thigh, abandoning his drink in favor of touching her. Aelin’s skin is silky soft, and though she tries to hide it, he hears the way her breath catches at the contact. He sees the shiver running down her spine. He runs his hand down to her knee and then back up, teasing her.

“What are you doing?” she asks him. The words come out a little sharp, a little breathless, but they make his confidence falter.

Rowan lets his hand fall away from her skin quickly, suddenly feeling a little gross and a lot embarrassed. “I, uh—” He wipes a hand down his face. “I thought I was flirting, but I must be doing a shit job, apparently, if I have to explain myself.”

Aelin’s eyes light up at his words, amusement twisting her lips into a smile.

“Fuck, that was too easy,” Aelin says, grinning. Rowan furrows his brow in confusion; it only grows when Aelin reaches out and squeezes his thigh once. A jolt of excitement hits him, then disappointment as her hand falls away.

“Wanna get out of here?” she asks.

“Do you?” Rowan blurts, losing any and all cool points.

Aelin’s smile is sultry. She leans as close to him as she can in their current seating arrangement and walks her fingers up his arm as she speaks. “Is it next time yet?”

_Maybe next time_ , he’d told her. Rowan’s heart hammers in his chest.

-

Rowan presses Aelin into the door of his apartment, refusing to break one of the hottest makeout sessions he’s had in a long time. Aelin waited until the elevator to make her move, but once she did, she didn’t hold back.

Aelin moans into his mouth as Rowan cages her in, wrapping his body around hers. Her warm hands slide under the hem of his cotton shirt, pressing her nails into the muscle of his back and making him hum in pleasure.

They make out for a while, tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Aelin tugs on his hair with her free hand and giggles when he groans; Rowan nips at the soft spot of skin behind her ear, and Aelin melts into his body.

Necessity has Rowan opening the front door, biting his lip to muffle the moans Aelin provokes from his as she sucks at his neck. The pressure is too hard; she’ll leave marks behind at this rate, but it feels too good for Rowan to stop her.

Inside the apartment, Aelin takes charge. She shoves Rowan towards the couch until the backs of his knees collide with it, and he falls into a sitting position. The laugh that comes out of him is frenzied and surprised. Aelin just smiles.

“Take off your shirt,” she orders, tugging off her heels and untucking her shirt from the skirt she wears. Rowan yanks the clothing over his head with one hand; by the time his eyes are back on Aelin, she’s pulling her hair free of her top, standing in nothing but that sinful mini skirt and a barely-there bra.

“Fuck,” he swears, reaching for her body as she straddles his lap. “Look at you.”

Rowan slides his hands up and down her sides. Aelin bites her lip when his thumb brushes the underside of a breast, and Rowan files that bit of information away for later. It’s important knowledge.

He doesn’t waste any time with small talk; instead, Rowan gets to work exploring the body of the woman in his lap. Aelin’s breathing grows heavier as Rowan sucks and nips at her skin, dragging tongue and teeth across her nipples without removing her bra. Impatient, Aelin removes it for him, and Rowan laughs at her boldness. He’s not the least bit surprised that she’s bossy during sex.

Aelin is panting by the time Rowan’s fingers work to hike her skirt up over her hips. She wears the piece around her waist now, but neither of them seems inclined to separate long enough to remove it. Rowan makes a show of dragging his hand up the inside of her thigh, then gripping her ass with one hand and massaging her breast with the other.

“ _Oh_ ,” Aelin keens as he slips his fingers between her folds, switching back and forth between working her clit and pressing inside her. Her voice has taken on a husky quality that makes Rowan’s cock twitch. He likes the way he can make her sound.

“Shit,” she gasps, “that feels good.”

“Yeah?” He asks, adding a second finger. Aelin’s head falls back as she moans. “Do you like that?”

“Yeah,” she tells him. Then: “ _Yes._ ”

When Rowan adds another finger, he groans at the way her body stretches to accommodate it. He wants to know so badly how it feels to have her wrapped around his cock instead of his fingers. Aelin drags her fingernails down his chest as she grinds down on his hand, biting his lips as she tries to kiss him and pant his name at the same time.

When she comes, all Rowan can think is that he needs to have her, and he needs to have her now. There’s only one problem.

“B-bedroom,” Rowan stutters as Aelin gets to work undoing his jeans at last, sinking to the living room floor. This woman is on a mission to kill him. “Condoms are in the bedroom.”

“I have some in my purse,” she tells him, yanking down his pants.

Rowan can’t resist being arrogant. “Someone was sure of them—”

His voice is strangled as Aelin takes him in her mouth, effectively silencing him. Rowan’s vision goes white, and he forgets whatever he was going to say, everything that isn’t the feeling of Aelin’s tongue running down his cock.

Aelin lets him go after a few too-short moments, popping her lips. She turns the sass back on him.

“Sorry,” she says, completely unapologetically. She strokes his cock with her hand lazily, tilting her head innocently to the side. “You were saying?”

“Fuck,” Rowan swears, head falling back to the couch. “If you keep doing that, we won’t need the condoms.”

Aelin’s smile is proud as she lowers her mouth back towards his cock. Rowan is completely at her mercy; his head spins with every twist of her hand, every dip of her head. He doesn’t even recognize the sounds coming out of his mouth.

If he doesn’t stop her, Rowan will come before he gets the chance to be inside her. He tugs on her hair to pull her away from him, having wrapped the long golden strands around his hand at some point. Aelin moans at the pressure, but she complies, biting her lip and staring up at him from under her long, full lashes.

Rowan can tell that Aelin has something smart to say, clever words poised on the tip of that very talented tongue. He makes his move, recalling how Aelin liked having her throat held in the elevator. He reaches for her gently, giving her the time and space to object, but Aelin’s eyes darken, and she bites her lip to stifle a moan.

“Get up here,” he orders, guiding her face up to his with the grip he has on her throat. Her breath hitches; it's a little sound that drives him mad.

“Fuck,” he hisses. “I need to be inside you. Right. Now.”

Aelin agrees if the sound that leaves her lips is any indication. She kisses him, and then they rearrange. Rowan remembers the condom; Aelin finally gets rid of that mini skirt. When he looks up, Aelin is kneeling his couch cushions, ass in the air just for Rowan. The sight of her nearly brings him to his knees. Oh, how he wants to get his mouth on her.

Rowan hopes he’ll have the chance to do so later.

“Is this okay?” He asks, running his hands over her ass and up her back. Aelin nods frantically, but it isn’t until she whines _Please_ that Rowan enters her, sinking into her wet heat with ease and growling at the feeling. He doesn’t recognize himself.

“Oh, _my_ —” Aelin’s cry gets lost as Rowan starts to rock his hips into hers.

They find their rhythm quickly. Aelin drags one of Rowan’s hands up her body to grip her breast; her own grip the arm of the couch, nails digging into the furniture. Rowan gets lost in the feeling of Aelin’s body, the sound of her gasping with each thrust, the sight of her body arched beneath him.

“C’mere,” he growls, lifting her onto just her knees and pressing her back into his chest. Their skin slides against each other as their bodies move in tandem, both desperately seeking the same thing. 

Rowan’s hand slides up the front of her body, between the valley of her breasts, and towards her neck. Aelin whimpers, but her grip on his thighs tighten and her walls clamp down around him. The groans and grunts escaping him sound like some else.

“ _Rowan_ ,” Aelin gasps as she teeters on the edge. Her body tenses. “Right there. Don’t... stop.”

She breaks.

Rowan holds onto Aelin as she trembles, hips rocking into her with desperation. The feeling of her muscles contracting around him is too much to handle; he’ll never last long enough to make her come a second time.

Aelin’s climax takes over her every sense; her body curls away from Rowan’s chest, and she babbles nonsense, a string of _oh’s_ and _baby’s_ and _yes_ that drive the man wild. He follows after her, pressing her body into the couch cushions and fucking her with abandon.

He comes to the sound of her chanting his name. Rowan, Rowan, Rowan.

_Rowan._

_*_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For my Tumblr Prompt-athon: “Don’t come until I tell you to.” & “No touching.” & “Stop biting that fucking lip.”   
> So, this is basically 2,000 words of smut.

**Rowan wakes to find Aelin still in his bed.** He’s surprised at first; Rowan was nearly sure that the woman would slip out in the night and continue their game of cat and mouse, leaving yearning after the feeling of her skin again. Yet, there she was, breathing softly beside him.

He runs a hand down the smooth contour of her back, trying to wake her as gently as possible. Rowan wants nothing more than to press his lips down the column of her spine, dig his teeth into the soft curves of Aelin’s hips, sink into her warmth, but he needs her to be awake first.

Aelin hums but keeps her eyes closed. Rowan reaches for her face, brushing a thumb along her bottom lip. He laughs when she nips at his finger playfully, eyes still closed, and his skin flashes with heat when she catches one in her mouth, flicks her tongue against the pad of it.

It’s insane, the effect that Aelin’s body has on him. Rowan is still trying to wrap his mind around it. He got the slightest taste of her in that shitty bathroom, and ever since, Rowan’s spent all of his time trying to figure out how to get another.

“Mornin’,” she mumbles from her pillow.

Blue-gold eyes shine at him, filled with molten heat even through the sleepy fog of waking up. Rowan moves to cover her body with his own, and Aelin arches into his frame, pressing her ass back against him happily. Rowan lets out a soft groan before sinking his teeth into her shoulder; Aelin moans in response. Her fingers dig in the sheets, her body arching even closer to his.

“Good morning,” he whispers into her skin. It’s the first thing he’s said today, and the roughness of his voice shows it. Aelin hums, giggling when Rowan’s hands drag around her middle to roll her over.

He remembers his desires from the night before, settling between her hips and rubbing his cheek down the inside of her thighs. Aelin whimpers, reaching for him; she tugs Rowan up her body by his hair, making him groan as the sweet sting.

She locks her mouth onto his, wrapping her legs around his hips to bring him closer. Rowan moans into her mouth as she runs her fingers down the muscle of his back, nails scratching a path towards his ass. Aelin giggles into his mouth, does it all again.

The fire burning between them grows. Rowan slips his fingers between them, and Aelin breaks away from their kiss at the feeling, gasping his name, but Rowan just moves his mouth to her neck, soaking in the feeling of her heavy breathing beneath him.

“Shit,” she swears, sucking in a breath. “That feels good.”

“Yeah?” Rowan nips at the swell of her breast, smirking when Aelin arches into his mouth. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, and one of her hands grips his hair desperately.

“ _Yes_ ,” she pants. “But your cock would feel even better.”

“Fuck.” Rowan locks his lips with Aelin’s for another messy kiss. A groan escapes the back of his throat when Aelin reaches for his cock, stroking him purposefully.

This woman isn’t playing around; Rowan can’t get enough.

“Be patient,” he tells her, pulling away. Rowan laughs when Aelin whimpers a protest, but she falls silent as he begins kissing a path back down her body. Her breathing grows uneven; the further down he goes.

Rowan drags his face back down her trembling thighs. Aelin sucks in a sharp breath when he kisses the delicate, sensitive skin on the inside of her leg, but he waits to do anything else.

When she looks down at him, impatient, Rowan asks with a smile, “Is this okay?”

“It’d be better if you got to work,” she snarks. The laughter that explodes from Rowan is unexpected; he presses his face into her thigh to muffle the noise. He’s never had a woman leave him as tongue-tied as Aelin.

The first taste of her is divine. Aelin’s body goes taut beneath him at first, but she quickly relaxes into the feeling, reaching for his hair and running her fingers through it.

“Oh… shit,” she sighs, sinking deeper into the mattress. Rowan bites back the arrogant smirk, focusing on making her feel good by alternating between sucking kisses to her folds and long, teasing strokes of his tongue.

Rowan takes his time, working Aelin into a frenzy. She grows impatient beneath him, eager for more friction, and her hips begin to rock into his face, making him groan into her as they work.

She gasps his name when he slips his fingers inside of her, crooking them to find that sweet spot within Aelin. Rowan knows when he finds it by the way she swears at him, begging for more at the same time.

Aelin’s thighs clench around his head when she comes; her fingers dig into his scalp as she cries out, hips rocking. Rowan groans into her; he could care less how she crushes him. He thinks it’s not a terrible way to go.

It turns him on more than anything, how she clings to him with abandon, writhing beneath him, thanking him, asking for more.

Rowan crawls back up her body as Aelin recovers. She cups his face with her hands as she kisses him, tasting herself on his lips and moaning at the feeling. Her knees rub against his sides as they make out, and Rowan gets lost in her, dragging his hands through her hair, down her shoulders, over her breasts.

Aelin takes charge, pushing him back by his chest. Rowan smirks when she orders him to get a condom, but when he moves to get on his knees, Aelin stops him.

“I wanna ride you,” she tells him shamelessly. Aelin isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants, nor to take it. A groan escapes his lips at her words, and Rowan scrambles into a seated position.

They both make strangled sounds as Aelin sheathes him inside of her. She takes a moment to adjust, kissing him deeply; Rowan smooths a hand up and down her back, wrapping her hair around his other hand. She lets him know when she’s ready, rolling her hips against his.

“Shit,” he swears. Aelin’s smile is nothing less than arrogant. “That feels good, baby.”

She experiments, testing out different speeds and ways of moving her body. Rowan swears again at the feeling of her walls wrapped around him. He starts to thrust upward, and Aelin meets him motion for motion.

“I—talk to me,” she tells him. “I like it when you talk to me.”

“Yeah?” Rowan clears his throat, becoming shy in the moment. Aelin nods. “Yeah, okay. Yeah.”

Aelin laughs. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”

“Give me a second,” Rowan nips her lips, drinking in the sight of her above him. A soft moan slips from Aelin’s lips. “Shit, look at you.”

She moans in affirmation, but Aelin quickly becomes impatient with their speed. “Just fuck me already, Rowan. I’m not going to break.”

The laugh that escapes him is a little crazy, but Rowan snaps his hips up and into her, testing the waters for what she’s looking for. The sound that comes out of Aelin is better than any drug; her nails dig into his shoulders, and she arches her back as she rides him.

Rowan connects the dots. “You like that?”

“More,” she begs. “Give me more.”

Rowan’s restraint breaks; he growls at her words, fucking into her with abandon now. He drives his hips upwards with quick, hard thrusts. Aelin cries out at the feeling, allowing him to take the lead. Her knuckles are white as she hangs on to him.

A flash of concern hits him that he’s gone too far, that she’s uncomfortable. Aelin protests immediately.

“Don’t stop,” she whines, her voice breathless and oh so arousing. “ _Pleasedon’tstop._ ”

The only sounds in the room from that point are Rowan’s praises, their sharp intakes of breath, and the sound of skin on skin. Aelin gasps his name or order that makes him laugh—often, she begs for _moremoremore_.

Rowan gets lost in her, chasing that final, delirious high. He can feel it as Aelin’s body grows tense above him; her walls squeeze around his cock. Rowan has to bite his lip to keep it together, but when he catches sight of Aelin’s hand slipping between them, something feral and domineering overcomes him.

He flips them over in one fluid movement that makes Aelin gasp. Rowan takes the offending hand by the wrist, pulling up and over Aelin’s head before pinning the other there as well. Rowan barely recognizes his voice when he says, “No touching.”

Aelin’s eyes sparkle with amusement, but there’s no mistaking how her muscles have begun to tremble, more and more when each thrust of Rowan’s hips. He can tell she’s getting close, becoming desperate by the way she lifts her hips to meet his.

Rowan sits back onto his knees, dragging her with him. The change in position allows Rowan to get even deeper inside of Aelin; a wanton noise escapes her throat as she arches her back. Rowan growls at the sight of her. One hand is braced against the headboard as the move, and her other hand falls to his thigh. He lets her get away with it; she looks too good like this to scold.

“Don’t come until I tell you to,” he orders.

“Shit,” she pants. “I—”

“Can you do that for me, Baby?” he insists. Aelin moans, but she nods, sucking in a breath but incapable of speech. Rowan leans forward in their position to kiss her, whatever part of her body he can reach with her lips. “Good girl.”

The mattress creaks as he leans back onto his knees; Aelin arches her back deeper, using the hand against the headboard to push herself down onto his cock. Rowan groans; he slides his hands to her lower back, supporting her body.

Aelin mutters all manner of nonsense as Rowan fucks her. He remembers to tell her how good she looks, how great she feels; he asks her what she likes, what she wants. Her answer nearly undoes him.

“I want you to make me come,” she tells him. Then she pleads, “Can I come, baby?”

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, hips stuttering. Rowan won’t last much longer. They’re reaching the end. “Yeah, I wanna see how good you look when you come for me.”

Aelin nods furiously; she catches her lip between her teeth to keep from moaning.

“Stop biting that fucking lip.” Rowan snaps his hips into hers, breaking their rhythm and making her gasp sharply. “I wanna hear you.”

“ _Oh_.” Her hand falls from the headboard to massage her breast. Rowan slides one of her legs from around him, hooking it onto her shoulder and sinking deeper inside of her. Aelin cries out.

“ _Uh_ ,” Aelin keens. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

Rowan’s hips become a staccato. He growls with each thrust, the pressure growing in his groin and traveling up his spine. His cock begins to twitch; it grows more intense as Aelin’s body squeezes him. Rowan’s nearly there.

“Come for me, Aelin,” he orders, desperate. His thrusts become jerky and erratic; Aelin’s own hips grown urgent. “Show me how good I make you feel.”

She snaps, body contracting, crying out his name. Rowan’s a goner. The muscles in his abdomen convulse as he finds release; his vision starts to blur. He growls or groans or cries Aelin’s name—he isn’t sure. Rowan’s mind detaches from his senses from everything other than how good it— _Aelin—_ feels.

Aelin is still out of it as Rowan returns to the world. He smirks at her blissed-out expression, can’t resist crawling over to where she lays to touch her some more. Aelin gasps when his hand slips between her legs, making her hips jerk when he touches the sensitive nerves there.

Her laugh is delirious. Rowan’s mouth descends upon her; Aelin’s swollen lips taste of latex, but he can’t deny that he wants to make her come just _one more time._

He probably won’t get to do this again. Fucking his boss is probably a one-time thing. Aelin comes quickly; it’s soft and shallow, but she smiles, tugging him up for a makeout session that could last for minutes or hours.

Rowan doesn’t know; Rowan doesn’t care.


End file.
